On Wednesdays We Kill Things
by Air Guitar Pixie
Summary: As if waking up with a different- and female- body wasn't enough, things get worse. And being kidnapped and held against your will is sure to ruin anyone's day. AU, roughly takes place in early to mid season 5. Genderbent! Some hurt boys. And plot! Multi chapter, huzzah. Humor and angst. Well. I hope I can pull it off. You should read it and see if I managed!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _Well, hello there! And she posts yet another story! This one's for VattaKeko, but I love genderbend with a passion, so...voilà. More than just a oneshot. I have a plot bunny that's hopping away with this, so...I hope you enjoy! _

_-Jaq_

* * *

Sam was dreaming that there were icicles shooting after him while he was riding a cake down a hill when he woke up.

"WHAT THE HELL? No, seriously. What the hell?! Sam, get...no, no! How even...an...Sam, get up. Now."

Sam groaned and groggily sat up, not opening his eyes. He vaguely noticed that his feet no longer hung off of the edge of the bed when he noticed something was...off about Dean's voice.

"You been sucking helium or something?" he mumbled absentmimdedly. A second passed before he realized that his voice, too, was higher than usual. He snapped his eyes open.

A girl was standing in his room wearing Dean's clothing (which already said too much, really...couldn't Dean at least warn him first?), with his brother nowhere to be seen.

"Uh...who are you?"

"I'M YOUR FRIGGIN' BROTHER, SAM, BUT I'M," the girl guestured to herself vaguely, "I'VE GOT BOOBS," she blurted out, sounding horrified. In addition to that, she was very pretty, with straight dark blonde hair in a jawline cut, and she appeared very fit.

Sam frowned. "...Dean? ...Dude, you're a girl."

"Go look in the mirror, Samantha."

The horror must have shown on Sam's face, because the girl- Dean? smirked. Sam got out of bed- his clothes were too loose, and his pants pooled at his ankles- and ran into the bathroom.

This must be a really, _really_ weird dream, he thought. No way this is actually happening. This is weird, even for them.

A face stares of of the mirror that's...him, but...not quite. The jaw isn't quite as square, and there's no barely-there stubble on his chin. And his hair is quite a bit longer. Plus...well, as Dean so well articulated it, boobs.

And a smaller waist, and hips, and just...you know. Girl parts. Sam thought he was going to be sick. After he woke up.

"I don't have any girl clothes," Dean hissed from behind him.

Sam started and turned to the voice.

And nearly felo over, because suddenly his center of balance was _much_ lower than he was used to. Sam would guess he'd lost five or six inches of height.

Dean, meanwhile, was checking himself out in the mirror.

"I'm a pretty hot chick," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Glad my handsome face is still intact. No insanely hot scruff, but I'd say I more than made up for it, whaddya think, Sammy?"

"When you're done, maybe you should consider the fact that we no longer can pose as the FBI agents we did yesterday for the case we're currently working. Plus, we don't have any girl clothes, like you said. We need to buy some. But we don't have any credit cards with these faces." He paused. "That sounded really weird."

Dean thought about it, and then snapped his fingers. "Jo and Ellen," he said triumphantly.

Sam tightened his jaw slightly, remembering his last encounter with the pair, but he nodded. "Good idea. It's about seven hours away, we can leave in half an hour. That is, if you can manage to take a shower in that amount of time."

"I like to be clean, Sammy," Dean said, smirking.

"It takes less than forty-five minutes to 'get clean,' Dean. I never have hot water when you go first," Sam grumbled.

Dean pretended not to listen. "Whatever. It's my turn today, so it sucks to suck. You can wear some of my stuff- you're about 5'11" now, so it shouldn't fit _that_ bad..."

"Dean, what about you? You're like five foot eight. Nothing we own is going to fit you."

Dean smirked. "Guess I'll just have to show off this rockin' bod to the world, then," he joked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Get in the shower. And don't use up all the hot water!"

Ten minutes later- _Hey Sam, can I borrow your conditioner? Friggin knots in my hair and it only goes to my- crap- my chin-_

"Yeah," Sam called back, almost choking in his effort not to laugh. His own hair ended just underneath his chest, falling in loose brown waves.

Several minutes later, Dean exited the bathroom wearing his shirt, which now went down almost to his knees. Scowling, he gestured for Sam to go take a shower, which he did.

When he finished, he entered the room to find Dean wearing a bright pink bra and boxers. He turned away. "Should I...go brush my teeth again?"

"Please, your breath stinks," Dean quipped. "And if you're wondering about the bra, I found it in my bag. Cute brunette a week ago." He whistled. "Anyway, lucky find, right?"

"Toss me some of your- clean- stuff," Sam said, ignoring the comment.

Dean threw over a faded black (well, it was really more like grey now) AC/DC T-shirt, a blue-and-gray plaid flannel, and a pair of jeans.

"Thanks. I'll be out im a sec."

Sam pulled on the T-shirt, feeling self-consious as it fit rather tightly across his chest, clearly displaying his lack of a bra. He compensated by buttoning the flannel. Nobody could tell now.

The jeans were the tricky part. They were too tight at the top, too long, and weirdly cut. But they were better than nothing, so Sam wore them.

When he exited, he found Dean wearing a blue shirt that was tied at his waist with a rubber band, accentuating it's narrowness and allowing a strip of midriff to show. The jeans he was wearing were insanely long on him, dragging on the ground as he walked.

"My shoes are too big," he said, pouting.

"I can wear yours," Sam smirked.

Dean gave Sam the finger, and then slipped into running shoes. "Get in the car, bitch. We're going shopping."

Sam stared t Dean, stunned. "Did...you just quote Mean Girls?"

"When in Rome..."

-:-

Dean cussed out three other drivers on the way to the mall, even though Sam told him that, technically it was his fault because he kept overcompensating and hitting the gas too hard to accelerate.

When they finally arrived, Dean paled. "I have no idea what to do," he said, glancing around."

"We'll split up. You'll do fine. Go look for some decent pants. I'm going to try and find Victoria's Secret," Sam told him. Dean didn't look convinced.

"I'll meet you in J Crew in two hours. I expect you to be completely changed, understand?"

Dean nodded mutely.

Sam rolled his eyes and headed off, thinking of a cover story in case he had to. Name: Samantha. Easy. Story: maybe something about being in a hotel room and your brother stole all your clothes so you had to wear his? It was feeble, but Sam didn't think anyone would really pry.

He found Victoria's Secret pretty easily. It was neon pink and had posters of lingere models, after all. Feeling slightly awkward, he stepped inside.

There was a lot of underwear.

Sam grabbed the first bra he found and ducked into the changing room. Too big. He pulled another one. Too small? He guessed?

Finally, he found one that fit. In the chanfing room, he put it on under the AC/DC tee. Not bothering to pay (the current credit card in his waller said Richard Wallace Davis, so that would have been interesting), he strolled out.

Next, he found an ATM and got several hundred dollars in cash, so he wouldn't have to use credit for the rest of his purchases.

In Gap, Sam found jeans that fit perfectly, and a white tank top that he could wear under a plaid buttondown. There.

He checked his watch. Just over an hour. He still had fifty minutes to find Dean. Bras were really uncomfortable, Sam noticed. Or maybe he just wasn't used to them.

He was washing his hands in the bathroom when suddenly the lights started to flicker. Never a good sign.

Then the door locked. Sam tried to kick it down, but found that he no longer had the sheer body weight and muscle mass necessary. And now his foot hurt.

There was a hissing sound, and Sam frantically banged on the door. It seemed as though he was being ignored, or couldn't be heard, however. As the gas started to have an effect, he felt his muscles start to go slack. Dark spots clouded his vision, and he sat down on the floor. His last thought before he fell unconscious was that at least nobody would recognize him.

* * *

A/N 2: _Well, what did you think of the first chapter? I really hope some people out there liked it...hey, how about a review? Do it for Dean quoting Mean Girls? Thanks for reading. Have a great day!_

_(as I said before, this story was for a prompt. If you have any story requests, pm me or leave a review with details and I'll do what I can!)_

_-Jaq_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hi there. I spent 3 hours on this chapter only to have it delete itself inexplicably. Which is why this is one day late. Lots of blood, sweat, and tears were put into re-writing this, and I'm still not as happy as I was with the first copy. Oh well. The response to this story was pretty phenomenal, so thanks to VattaKeto, LittleSilence, Leandra Falconwing, Souless666, Jenna, Kas3y, and Sharllissa for reviewing. Thanks also to retune who followed or favorited! Anyways, onto the story, where I have an excuse to vent my vehement dislike of buying jeans. _

_-Jaq_

* * *

Dean had found it significantly more difficult to find the correct-fitting jeans than he had thought it would. What the friggin' _hell_ was size 8/29 supposed to mean? Or the fifty different types of jeans- skinny, bootcut, straight, he didn't have a problem with, but boyfriend? What kind of style is that?

After trying on no less that sixteen different pairs, he found one that was suitable. Next, a shirt. And probably a new bra. To Dean's secret dissapointment, he didn't quite fit into the one he currently had.

Paying for the pants was a little trickier. Without thinking, he handed over the credit card to the sour-faced youth running the register.

"You're...Richard Wallace Davis?" the cashier said skeptically.

Dean smirked, thinking fast. "Ol' Richie is my brother."

"Uh huh. ID?"

Dean cursed silently. He almost never got ID'd. He had a driver's license of whoever their latest scam was, but he didn't have one like this.

"Left it at home. Look, if you don't believe me then that's just peachy. Now how 'bout you stop staring at my boobs?" Dean snapped angrily, following the cashier's obvious gaze.

"Aw, I wasn't...take the pants and go, okay? But next time bring an ID," he said, his cheekbones coloring.

Dean gave him a dirty look and walked out of the store. He could change in the bathroom of the next store over.

After changing, he glanced at the time. He had about ten minutes to find J Crew and meet Sam. He looked over to a directory in the middle of the plaza.

J Crew was hard to miss. It took up a huge section of the mall, and the storefront was front and center. Unfortunately, it was clear on the other side of the mall. Still, it wasn't hard to get to. Dean stepped just inside and looked around.

There were athletic clothes in the corner he was standing in. Runner's shorts, tank tops, sports bras, athletic socks, even headbands. Dean sincerely hoped that he would never, ever wear a sweatband. Ever.

He checked the time again. Sam was three minutes late, and it wasn't like him to be late. Dean frowned and pulled out his cell.

Voicemail. Dean swore, and when the message replayed he spoke hurriedly. "I'm at J Crew. If you don't call, text, or show up in the next ten minutes I'm assumimg something bad has happened."

He ended the message. Dean was hungry- in the frenzy of the morning he'd completely forgotten about breakfast. When Sam got there he was definitely going to hit the burger bistro that was in the food court. He could smell it from here, with all of the fat, juicy burgers sizzling on the grill.

Ten minutes came and went. Dean's brow creased. He called Sam once again to tell him he was leaving, and began to walk back. As he did so, he noticed CAUTION- DO NOT ENTER signs upright around one of the bathrooms. He frowned.

"What happened?" he asked one of the maitinance guys on a whim.

"Electrical short. Funny, only happened in the bathroom," the guy said in a heavy Philadelphia accent, pulling up his pants at the same time. He really needed a belt, and if his line of work called him to be in public places so often Dean sincerely hoped he got one.

"Huh. Did it...uh, smell weird?" Dean asked, a horror story spinning itself in his mind. Electrical shortage? The fuse box that Maintenance Guy was working on looked perfectly fine to Dean. The man himself was also peering at it.

"Funny you ask. It smelled almost like rotten eggs in there, you know? But it's a bathroom. Could smell like anything. Nothing's wrong with this stupid fuse box! They sent me all the way from men's apparel in Old navy for this. I'm going to call somebody," the man griped.

Not good. Very, very not good. "Oh. Thanks."

Dean swore under his breath as he ran back to the car. Sam wasn't one to leave his phome unanswered, and that plus sulfur fumes equaled no good scenarios that Dean could think of.

-:-

Sam woke up in a dark, cramped space, his legs jammed up against his chest and his arms twisted uncomfortably behind his back. Handcuffs secured his wrists, and he was becoming aware that duct tape or something was over his mouth.

He wiggled around a bit, but was unable to move to a more comfortable position. Suddenly, his phone rang, and Sam realized that the tinny sound was what had woken him up. It was in the front pocket of his jeans (which was annoyingly small), however, and there was no way to reach it.

It rang several more times until going to voicemail.

Sam cursed silently. Dean was probably freaking out. Assuming, of course, that Dean was still at the mall and unharmed.

Whatever he was in lurched to the side, and Sam panicked. He couldn't see anything, couldn't do anything about it, just sit tight and wonder what the hell was happening.

It lurched again, and Sam heard footsteps on gravel. Back and forth it swug, with Sam inside. So, he was being carried. His cell phone began ringing again.

This time, whatever he was being carried in paused, and Sam silently implored the phone to stop ringing. Why, oh why, couldn't Dean just text?

"You hear that?" came a voice from the outside, muffled slightly.

"Sounds like a mobile phone. You think we oughta answer?"

"Sure, we can spin whomever's calling in some direction." Sam felt the box (he had decided it was definitely a box of some sort) lower, and then jolt to a stop on the ground.

Sam heard creaking noises, and suddenly the lid was lifted off. He blinked rapidly in the sudden light, blinded for a few seconds.

Whoever had captured him had really done a good job at jamming him in wherever he was-even now, with the lid off, Sam couldn't have escaped.

A hand reached into Sam's line of vision and pulled out his cell phone.

"Hello?" a rough voice said into the instrument.

He waited for a few seconds and then replied to the speaker (who must have been Dean), amusement barely percievable in his voice. Sam knew it wouldn't translate over the phone's tinny speaker. "Sorry, I don't know who Sam is. I picked this up off the ground in Pennsylvania not fifteen seconds ago."

Another pause. "No. Hey, you okay? Is Sam your boyfriend or something?"

"Your brother? Oh, sister? Gee, I'm really sorry. I'll tell her to call you. I'll put up a notice for the phone. Have a nice day."

Sam heard his phone snap closed, and he felt his heart start to pound. Judging from the weather- blistering hot and dry- they were nowhere near Pennsylvania. Which meant that Dean would have a harder time looking for him. Maybe the phone GPS? It had worked in the past.

A face leant over the box, and Sam struggled harder. The face was dark, dark brown, with close-cropped hair and an eyebrow piercing. It would have actually been very handsome, if it weren't for the eyes. Those were jet black, malice glintimg in them.

"Well, well, well. What have we got here? According to the spell, you are Sam Winchester. But you certainly don't look the part. My partner has just popped off to place your cell phone in Pennsylvania, and make sure the GPS is on. If that pesky brother of yours decides to go anywhere near it, he'll die. Gruesomely. But enough monologuing. We aren't even there yet."

The demon reached behind Sam and lifted something. As Sam saw the lid come back down he cursed, the sound muffled almost to nonexistance by the duct tape. Then it was pitch-black again.

Vaguely Sam wondered how much air there was in the box, but he dismissed it. It probably wasn't airtight, seeing as how he'd spent the last...amount of time locked in it. What was going to happen to him when he arrived at the unknown destination was a lot more worrying.

* * *

A/N 2: _I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review if you did- they make me really happy and less inclined to punch my laptop. Thanks for reading and have an awesome day!_

_Note on Dean trying on 16 pairs of jeans- I know my size and I still end up trying on a lot, so I figure that someone who doesn't know their size is apt to try on even more. _

_-Jaq_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: _And the promised update...Third chapter already! Although this is a genderbend fic, I'm trying not to make that the center of the plot, it should be noted. Thanks to VattaKeto, Leandra Falconwing, Sharlissa, LittleSilence, Kas3y, and Jenna for reviewing! You guys rock. Alright, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

Pennsylvania was a big state.

After calling Sam's cell several more times and finally getting a response, it was even worse than what Dean had thought. Well. Ransom calls were anything but simple, but that's what he had been expecting. Well, hoping, anyways. Looking back, he wasn't sure why, but...it seemed like a likely scenario.

But being dropped in the middle of Pennsylvania? It seemed...unusually sloppy. Not that Dean was arguing. Oh no. He'd take a sloppy demon any day. And he'd checked the phone's GPS- it was definitely in a forest in the western part of the state.

Pennsylvania was also approximately 20 hours away by car without stopping or obeying speed laws.

The first rational thing Dean had done was call Bobby and tell him what had happened. The older man was at first extremely skeptical, seeing as Dean didn't sound like...Dean. But after answering several questions and much irritated half-shouting, Bobby believed him.

"...somewhere in Cook forest, that's as precise as the GPS gets."

There was a pause on the other end, and Dean hung on while Bobby did a quick Web search. "No suspicious activity there in the last six months," he said.

Dean frowned. "Well, it'll take me a day and a half to get there."

"Then you'd better get going. Call me if you find anything."

"Same to you." Dean hung up and sighed. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that it was now three in the afternoon and all he'd had was a drink at the water fountain ages ago. The motel they had been staying at didn't have a restaurent, so Dean walked a block to a local diner.

He sat down at the bar. Eventually, a waitress walked up to him. She was about his age, dark haired and pretty. He smiled. "Uh...bacon cheeseburger?"

She nodded, giving Dean a little bit of an odd look. Dean flashed her a flirtatious smile. The waitress tilted her head slightly, but smiled back just as suggestively.

Which reminded Dean that he was in a female body. Which was still super weird. And maybe his waitress dug chicks (which was fine by Dean, but it didn't make it less awkward now).

One double cheeseburger and an extra-healthy helping of fries later, Dean was back to thinking about Sam.

"Hey, you okay?" It was his waitress, and she sounded genuinely concerned.

Dean sighed. "My brother went missing," he said. "Absolutely no idea where he is, except maybe someplace in Pennsylvania."

"I'm sorry," the waitress said quietly. "I'm Elaine, by the way."

"Dean. Na," Dean added quickly.

"Come again?"

"Deanne."

She nodded and took his plate. "Well, Deanne...do you want the check, or dessert? We have really good cherry pie."

Dean was sorely tempted by the pie, but his temporary good mood was gone. All he could think about was Sam. "The check, please," he said monotonously.

Elaine returned a few minutes later with the check and a piece of chocolate. "Good luck finding your brother, Deanne," she said, her eyes lingering on Dean's lips briefly before she left.

Dean didn't know what to do, so he paid in cash (leaving Elaine a generous tip; after all, he was feeling nice, he had plenty of money, and Sam was missing so it didn't really matter what he did).

He noticed that Elaine had written a phone number on his napkin, but he threw it away. He had to focus on Sam now anyway.

Dean pulled himself into the driver's seat, smiling a little bit at the familiar squeak. It needed oiling, but Dean liked that squeak. Gave his baby character.

He turned on the car, letting Lynyrd Skynyrd blast. He had a long way to Cook.

-:-

Right, left, right, left. The rhythm of the box was jarring as the two demons walked the box up a gravel path or driveway. Sam, inside, closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to escape.

If he twisted in just the right way, he could hypothetically reach the knife Dean's boot, but after that he had no way of manoevering short of dislocating several joints.

So, probably a no.

After what seemed like hours, the rocking stopped and the box was let down. The lid was lifted off, and this time Sam remembered to squint immideately.

"What- who is it?" came a startled voice. "I thought we needed Sam Winchester, not some girl."

"Yeah. I know. It's Sam. Some sort of spell I think, but that there is definitely Sam Winchester," said the demon with the eyebrow piercing Sam had heard earlier.

"The body...it'll still work for the vessel, right?"

Sam tensed. No. Not this. Aything but this. Ransom, torture, anything. Death, even. Not this.

"I think so. I hope so. Otherwise, he is going to be so angry..."

Sam closed his eyes and tried very hard to disappear. It didn't work. Maybe, now that it was a different body, it wouldn't work as a vessel? Sam could hope, right?

"Agreed. Well...she's unharmed, right?"

"Completely."

"Perfect."

-:-

Twelve hours later, Dean was in Ohio. Bobby had called once, saying that he had seen something in New Mexico, but Dean didn't worry about that.

Eight hours later, he was entering Pennsykvania.

Two hours later, he Cook Forest.

It was filled with trees, and seemed peaceful. Dean had his gun out, and didn't trust a thing. At every rustle he pointed it, and the safety was already off.

It was loaded with consecrated iron rounds, which while not killing a demon would certainly stop it long enough for Dean to stab it with the demon-killing knife in his pocket.

Suddenly, a person walked out from behind a tree behind Dean. Without thinking, Dean whirled, pointing the gun.

The guy looked pretty tourist-y, with a camera slung over his shoulder and a map sticking out of his pocket. Upon seeing the gun, his eyes widened and he threw his hands up, backing away slowly. "Please, ma'am, I've got a family, a wife and two kids and-and a dog, please don't shoot me, here, I have thirty bucks and a Visa card, don't shoot me-"

"Shut up," Dean barked. The man did so immideately. "Christo."

Nothing happened. Relieved, Dean lowered the gun. "I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. Keep walking. I'm not going to shoot you."

The man nodded furiously, walking quickly and keeping his hands raised.

Dean cursed. He didn't know what he was doing, or where Sam was. For all he knew, he was walking into a trap. In fact, he probably was walking into a trap.

Great. Dean loved traps.

"Maybe not shooting me was the dumbest decision you've made all day," came the tourist's voice from behind him. Dean whirled around, gun out, but a casual flick of the man's wrist and Dean was flung against a tree, the gun long discarded.

"Exorci-" Dean began, but the demon snarled and made a fist, and Dean felt his windpipe crush.

The tourist languished back. "The thing about that word you used before," it said, "is that it's got a loophole. I can sit in this guy's head alllll day without him noticing. I don't have to possess him until I want to, and since I wasn't technically possessing him, that word doesn't make his eyes turn black. And after...pushing him, a little, to decide to go into Cook Forest, where Dean Winchester was going to be? Why, I barely had to steer to get you to run into me. Simple, really. Much too simple." A sigh. "It's a shame we don't need you alive, Dean. A real shame."

The demon pulled out a nasty-looking knife, smiled, and stabbed Dean in the chest.

* * *

A/N 2: _Whoops. _

_How about this. I promise Dean is involved in the next chapter, you review, I post the chapter tomorrow? How about that. So if you like this, review! Because it makes me want to update faster. Thanks for reading as always, and have a great day. _

_-Jaq_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _Well, I promised that Dean would be back, didn't I? About to find out how I kept that promise. Thanks to LittleSilence, Kas3y, Sharllissa, Leandra Falconwing, and Jenna for reviewing! I am SO SORRY that I wasn't able to get back to you guys in regards to your reviews- life is a bit hectic right now and I've barely had time to write. I hope you enjoy this fourth chapter!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

Dean woke up in a familiar room. Grouchily. He quickly determined that while he was not dead any more, he was still female.

It was Victorian, with a floor-to-celing mirror and a buffet table down the center that held hundreds of hamburgers. Dean scowled.

"Zachariah."

It was a statement, not a question. An older man appeared, wearing a manicured suit and carrying a glass of Scotch. "Dean." He smirked. "A thank-you would be nice."

"What the hell?"

"Heaven, actually. Sorry, Dean. Fun as it would be, we really can't have you dying so soon in the game." He gestured with his free hand.

Dean rolled his eyes. "No. Not that. I meant the whole waking up with a different body thing!" He glared pointedly at the angel.

"That wasn't me. Although it's quite funny, it really isn't my concern. You still have Dean Winchester's DNA, minus a Y chromosome. You're still Michael's vessel, and your brother is still Lucifer's," he said nonchalantly. "My advice? Get a sports bra."

Dean opened his mouth, but his brain didn't supply a retort. The only thing he could think was "I just got friggin' bra advice from Zachariah the winged dick," and that was pretty tough to take in.

"How do you even-nevermind. I don't want to know. Alright. Thanks for bringing me back, I guess. Now, can I leave? I've got things to do."

"Such as rescuing your brother?"

Dean glared again. "Yes. I take it you know where he is?"

Zachariah shrugged. "If it concerned me, I could find out. It's much more amusing watching you try, however."

"I'll kill you if you even think of touching-"

"Relax. Sam is needed, remember?" The angel took a sip of his drink. "And so are you. You pledged yourself to our service, remember?"

Dean gritted his teeth, remembering that terrible night. "I swore allegiance to help kill Lilith. And she's dead," he bluffed, trying to find a way out. He couldn't. Well, maybe...he found the little knife tucked into his waistband and cut his fingers, showing no outward sign that it hurt.

"No, you pledged allegiance to the flag. My flag. And now we need you. The devil's got Sam, we've got you- and thanks to your brand-new bodies, those pesky Enochian sigils on your ribs are gone, too. Everything's pretty perfect, wouldn't you say? Now all we need is your consent."

Dean backed up against the countertop and began smearing his blood around behind his back. "Well, you can forget that," he spat out. "I'll never say 'yes.'"

"Please, Dean. Enough with the tough guy act. We have unlimited resources; you're trapped in a box with no friends. Who do you really think has the upper hand?"

"Me," Dean grunted as he swiveled and placed his hand on the center of the sigil. He shielded his eyes as Zachariah was blasted away.

-:-

Sam was manhandled out of the box. As soon as he was, he fell over, his limbs on fire. Being cramped so long, all of his blood circulation had stopped, and returning was not only painful but made it impossible to stand.

He groaned as two demons knelt on either side of him and yanked him roughly to his feet. Sam raised his eyes.

And saw Lucifer. His eyes widened, and Sam struggled, pointlessly. Still, it was an instinct.

"Sam," the devil breathed. "Sam, Sam, Sam. Gotta say, love the new body. Especially since you're back on the map with new ribs." He raised his eyebrows. "So, what's it going to be?"

"Never," Sam spat.

"I was afraid of that answer. Just think, though, I could bring them all back for you. Jessica, your mother, anyone you want. Dean."

Sam froze. "Dean's not dead," he said, his voice almost hitching. He managed to keep it steady, however. The unsaid '_is he_?' hung in the air.

"Show him."

The demon on Sam's right left the room and came back with a simple camera.

"Watch, Sam..."

Sam couldn't take his eyes off of the tiny screen. He watched as it opened with Dean, crumpled under a tree with a knife shoved through his chest. The camera panned out and you could see its holder, a young man in his thirties with blond hair and black eyes.

"Hi, Sam," the demon said. "I've just killed your brother-sister? Not sure what you two've got going on here-and I'm under orders to record this, so I am. Dean, any last words? We've got your brother. You couldn't save him, Dean. You failed." The demon smiled.

Dean was struggling to breathe, blood gurgling in his mouth. "'M sorry, Sammy," he gasped, looking straight into the camera.

Sam clenched his jaw, tears pricking his vision. No. No. Not Dean.

"M...so...sor..." Dean didn't even finish the word before he exhaled one final time and his muscles slumped. His head tilted to one side, and the camera zoomed in on his inert, clearly dead face. It stayed like that for a few seconds, then turned back to the grinning demon before going blank.

Sam surged against his captors, rage boiling inside him.

"You bastard! Bring him back, you son of a bitch! Bring him back!" Sam shouted, tears that he refused to shed marring his vision.

"All it takes is one word and he's good as new."

Sam finally let the tears fall. "No," he said, almost to himself. "He wouldn't want that." Anger flared up, and he glared.

"So much anger. So _much_. You'll need that, Sam. Especially now that there's nobody to save you."

Sam swallowed hard and spat on Lucifer's shoes. The fallen angel looked affronted. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. We can't have that. Nigel?"

The demon holding Sam looked up. "Yes?"

"Use your imagination. I won't let him die."

The demom grinned, and pulled Sam after him down a flight of stairs.

-:-

Dean hottailed it back to Bobby's, hotwiring an old blue Comet. Distinguishable, yes, but Dean was pissed and mad and the Impala was in Pennsylvania and did he mention just how pissed beyond rational thought he was?

"Can it, Bobby," he said as soon as he arrived. "Long story short, I died but the angels brought me back because apparently they don't want me dead. Sam thinks I'm dead, I think. Lucifer's got him God knows where- but it isn't Pennsylvamia, let me tell you- and is trying to get him to say yes. We need to find out where he is and stop him. I'm thinking Ellen, Jo, Rufus, Tony...anyone else we can trust that you know?"

"Woah there. Slow down, son. Step inside the damned house and sit down, would ya?"

Dean obliged, taking the beer Bobby handed him.

He explained what had occured in more detail, noticing how Bobby kept stealing glances at him. When confronted, Bobby just shook his head. "I've seen a lot of strange stuff in my day, but I think this takes the cake."

"Right, yes, I know. Can we call Ellen and Jo?"

"There's a cellphone in your damn pocket, you don't need my permission."

Dean nodded and pulled out his phone. Within seconds, he was on the phone with Jo.

"Hey, Jo, it's Dean-"

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with Dean?" Jo spat through the phone almost immediately.

Bobby took the phone then. "Jo, it's Dean. For some reason he's got a girl's body now, but it's him. I've checked."

"...Oh. Sorry. Well, why'd you call?"

Dean took a deep breath. "The devil has Sammy," he said, his voice steady.

"Oh, God," Jo said, her voice laden with fear all of a sudden. "Um, let me put you on speaker. My mom and me are at a hotel right now, we just finished a case in Iowa."

There was a slight pause, and then Ellen's voice came through the tiny speaker. "Dean? Bobby?"

"Still here."

"So the bad guys got Sam?" Her voice sounded grim, but steely.

Dean nodded, then realized they couldn't see him. "Yeah. He could be anywhere. Well, except Cook Forest in Pennsylvania."

"We're in a little town outside of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. We can be there in a little over five hours if you need us."

"Please," Dean said.

"Alright. Call us if you find anything new."

"I will," Dean promised.

* * *

A/N 2: _Well, what do you think? Sam thinks Dean's dead, Dean doesn't know where Sam is...but Ellen and Jo, yay! I plan on making them be pretty big characters in this story. Please review! I'll try to get a chapter up tomorrow, but if not, then definitely Sunday. Have a great day and thanks for reading!_

_-Jaq_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: *_looks at chapter length* *winces* Hey, guys! Welcome to the...short...fifth chapter! Here we have an example of my editing app malfunctioning again, and I (again) had to re-write a chapter. And it really isn't as long as I'd like. Sigh. Thanks to VattaKeto, Sharllissa, Souless666, Kas3y, LittleSilence, Jenna, and Quest's Tails for reviewing the last chapter. You all are amazing. And now...onward. _

_-Jaq_

* * *

A little over five hours later, a silver Camry pulled into Singer Salvage. Out stepped Ellen and Jo Harvelle.

Once inside, Dean was fidgety. After the initial "Dean looks like a girl" shock was over, he was anxious to go get Sam.

"So Dean," Jo asked hesitantly, "I know you want to get back to Sam and all, but have you wondered why someone would want to chamge yours and Sam's genders?"

"No, not really. Mostly I've been thinking about how to ger my brother back," Dean snapped.

Jo glared. "We all want Sam back. But maybe that isn't the only plan with ill intentions. Have you considered the fact that, besides from being completely off balance and unable to fight decently, you don't have those sigils or the demon-proofing tattoo anymore?"

The truth was, Dean hadn't really thought about it. It didn't seem that pressing, to be completely honest. It didn't...wait. If the sigils on his and Sam's chest were gone..."Cas," he breathed.

Bobby looked at Dean, a little surprised. "Castiel? Didn't you and him part...not friends?"

"That doesn't matter. Cas! Get down here!" Dean waited. "Please?"

There was a rustle of feathers, and a rumpled-looking Cas appeared, his nose bleeding. "What, Dean? I...Dean?"

Dean grimaced. "Yeah...you wouldn't happen to know how I got a rockin' new bod, would you?"

Castiel frowned. "No. Is that why you called me?"

"No. Cas, it's Sam."

Cas' face hardened. Before he could speak, Dean cut him off. "Can you find out where he is?"

Cas briefly closed his eyes. Frowning, he looked down at Dean. "New Mexico. I can't locate any more specific than that...it's jammed."

"Take us there. Me, Bobby, Ellen, Jo. Now."

"I have to-"

"Go lookin' for God, we all know," Bobby said. "But the devil has Sam, so maybe you could pause for five friggin minutes and help us."

"Lucifer has Sam?" Cas said, surprise lilting his voice. "That would be why I cannot get any more specific than New Mexico. Dean, this is bad."

"We know. Can you get us there?" Ellen spoke up, crossing her arms underneath her chest and cocking an eyebrow.

Castiel looked away. "To send you there would be to alert Lucifer to our presence. It isn't smart." With that, he disappeared.

"What did you do to piss him off, Dean?" Ellen said, sounding amazed and a litte angry. "Three weeks ago he was practically perched on your shoulder."

"Now really isn't the time. Get packed. We're going to New Mexico."

-:-

Sam spat blood out of his mouth, gasping at every word. "You...you said you wouldn't hurt me," he managed, face contorting in pain.

Lucifer nodded. "I'm not. They are," he said, pointing to the demons. "And I can always put you back together. Don't worry, I would never allow something of mine to be permanently damaged."

"I'm...not...yours," Sam spat, trying to avoid screaming as Nigel the demon filleted his upper arm. He failed.

"Yes, you are, and the sooner you realize that, the better."

Sam watched as he exited, the door closing behind him and leaving him alone with the demons in the pitch black.

That was the worst thing, not being able to see what was coming next. The demons could see just fine in the dark, or well enough to torture Sam anyways.

He felt something puncture his arm, something that wasn't smooth or clean, and the tiny ridges and abrasions hurt like hell. Sam screamed, the sound echoing shrilly around the basement.

The knife dragged downwards, down through Sam's shoulder. He screamed again.

-:-

They drove for seventeen hours before stopping at a motel in Kansas for the night. During that time, Dean hardly spoke a word. He just turned up the music and drove. Bobby, Ellen, and Jo all offered to drive for a while, but Dean refused. He had to get to New Mexico.

-:-

Every time Lucifer entered the room, Sam healed, and for a few seconds he stopped hurting. Then, he was allowed food, and water, and the privacy of a bathroom.

After only a couple days, he could feel the dependancy his body had begun to build. He could hold out under torture, but only if there was the promise of a visit.

Brainwashing, his mind told him. Building dependancy so strong and primal that it takes over conscious thought and his will crumbles.

But Sam won't succumb to that. He was determined. Every few hours, when his captor (Sam had to fight to remember that Lucifer was his captor, was the bad guy. Already, his mind wanted to believe that it had a friend) would come and make the offer, Sam would say no. He didn't always say it strongly, but he said it. Never yes.

No matter what, never say yes.

-:-

"What do we even look for? Demonic omens? Signs from Revelations? Temperature fluxuations?" Bobby asked rhetorically, after several fruitless hours searching through all of New Mexico's newspapers.

Dean nodded. "That sounds like a good place to start. You three keep on research duty. I'm going to do some looking around myself."

Jo immediately closed the laptop she was using. "I'll go with you."

Dean glanced at Ellen. The older woman gave him an if-you-get-my-daughter-hurt-you're-gonna-wish-you'd-never-been-born looks, but she nodded.

Jo looked surprised, but she hid it immediately. Grabbing a gun in addition to her knife, she turned to Dean. "Where to?"

"New Mexico's a big state. Bigger than Pennsylvania."

"We have to start somewhere."

Dean tucked his own gun into his waistband. "We're pretty near Albequerque. We can start there."

* * *

A/N 2: _Welp. I hope you liked that chapter! You can guess what Dean did to piss off Cas, but chances are you won't get it right...but guess anyways. If you want. I'm not really planning on Cas being as big a character as Sam, Dean, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo, but he'll be there. On another note, my best friend and I are going camping...in the woods...until Thursday morning...*shudders* not sure how I got roped into that one, but...no updates until Thursday or Friday, sorry! _

_If you still like this, leave a review? Thanks. Have a great day!_

_-Jaq_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:_ Hi! I'm sorry it's so late in updating, and that I didn't get to replying to your reviews. I will to these reviews. Promise. Alright. Thanks to Sharllissa, VattaKeto, NikkieSheepie, Jenna, LittleSilence, Quest's Tails, Kas3y, LeeMarieJack, and Leandra Falconwing for your awesome reviews. They really mean a lot to me. And now...onto the next chapter!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

Sam didn't know the date, or the time, or if it was night or day. He didn't know how long it'd been since he'd eaten or made use of the bathroom. And he didn't know if he ever would.

Dean was dead.

Sam wished he was dead.

Sam would do anything to stop the pain.

Well, almost anything.

He felt his bones and muscles begin to knit back together, the sinews and cartilage shifting back in place. The abrasions, cuts, bruises...everything began to heal. Sam felt the chains holding his arms slacken, and then drop. Food appeared next to him, and water.

As Sam was devouring his food, a man stepped into the room.

"Just one word, Sam, and it can always be like this..."

Sam paused and looked up. Through a throat that was newly made and a voice no longer hoarse from screaming, he spoke. "You...you did this."

"No, Sam. I make it stop. Whenever I'm here, there isn't pain. Right?"

Numbly, Sam nodded. True. It's all true.

"You don't even have to be awake. I can put you to sleep the entire time. You remember sleep, right?"

Sam thought so. It was an unattainable pleasure now.

"So what's stopping you? I can bring your brother back, Sam."

But Dean wouldn't want that...

In some distant corner of his brain, Sam realized that he was beyond rational thought, but he didn't want to care. His foggy, pain-induced mind just wanted to please the man in front of him.

Because when Lucifer was happy with Sam, the pain stopped. It didn't stop for long, but it stopped.

And that made it all the worse when it started up again, because Sam remembered so clearly what it was like to feel anything but pain...

"So, Sam, will you let me in? All the pain will stop. Please, Sam?"

Sam struggled to remember the right word. He just wanted to say yes. To end it. What did he have to live for anyway? But he knew he had a duty, some remnant of dignity. "No."

The man sighed, like he was genuinely sorry. "Then there's nothing I can do. I just want the pain to end for you, Sam."

The chains sprung up again, and the man disappeared.

Sam screamed.

-:-

"Why...the hell...is New Mexico so friggin' hot?" Dean demanded to nobody in particular.

Next to him, Jo shrugged. "It is summer," she supplied helpfully. Dean glared and pulled up his shirt to wipe his forehead free of sweat.

"Glad you finally took my advice and got a sports bra, though," Jo commented offhandedly, teasing slightly.

Shuddering at the shopping excursion that had happened earlier that day, Dean picked up the pace a little. "The magic locator thing says to go this way," he said, turning a sudden corner.

"It isn't a magic locator thing, it's a very complex device that can detect demons. You're lucky my mom found it a last week; it's practically the last one in exsistance."

"Well, it could do with some modifications. Like, not pointing randomly." Dean kicked over a table to reveal what appeared to be an extensive rock collection, including a sulfurous smelling yellow rock.

"It's centuries old and it's the best thing we have! Besides, with the exception of a few...detours, it's taken us in a relatively straight line southwest. That's good," Jo countered.

Dean didn't reply. He knew it was good. But when it had suddenly begun spinning and whirring excitedly, he hadn't pulled off the road just to find some guy's rock collection. Apparently, the thing read off of sudden and unusually large traces of sulfur, which had led to a few mistakes.

Still, they'd managed to not overheat the Impala or the Camry, and the magic locator was leading them in a fairly straight line. So that was good.

-:-

"It's okay, Sam. It's okay. You know what to say."

Sam looked up. How had he ever thought that the angel above him was bad? No, he knew that whenever Lucifer was around Sam felt better. The pain stopped. Sam needed to repay him in the only way he could now. Why had he ever been against it? He knew now how wrong Dean had been, how many lies there were. Now, there wouldn't be any more lies.

"Yes."

-:-

"This is it, Jo, this is it," Dean said frantically, pulling off on the side of the road. Jo got out of the passenger seat, and Ellen and Bobby pulled over next to them in the Camry.

"It's right on the line, and that house is the only one for miles. It has to be it. It's been two weeks investigating every frigging town in this damn state. This has to be it," Dean said confidently.

"And what is our plan again? Bust in there, get your most likely tortured brother out, and leave in our cars with the devil and his minions- who can teleport- on our tails? No offense, but the plan sucks."

Dean turned to Bobby. "I'm aware that it sucks. Which is why I'll be the only one going in. If I die the angels bring me back, remember? I've got unlimited get out of jail free cards. You all stay in the cars and keep them running. If demons come out, you've got the salt shotguns, plus the exorcism recordings. I'll be fine."

Bobby stared at Dean for a long second. "That's not much of a better plan."

"It's something."

-:-

Sam couldn't move his arms or his legs, could only see what the devil wanted him to. Because of course, Lucifer had restored Sam's memory ad brain. Sam knew why he shouldn't have said yes now. Sam knew he was weak. But he couldn't do anything.

Sometimes, he fought, but it was like scratching at a blast wall with a rubber needle that kept getting duller and duller.

Sam was awake. Oh, he was so awake.

So he was awake when his brother- still in a female body, Sam noted, like himself- came bursting in the door.

-:-

Dean had been preparing himself for a lot of things. His brother, tortured and almost dead, was certainly one of them.

What he wasn't expecting was the cool, crisp woman he met as he burst through the door.

She was wearing a tailored, form-fitting white suit that was nipped in the waist, and her long dark hair tumbled down her back in waves. There was a dark red rose corsage on her wrist, and when she saw Dean she smiled.

It was Sam's female body, Dean knew that. But that wasn't Sam. Not by a long shot.

* * *

A/N 2: ..._plot twist. Please review. And don't kill me. _

_-Jaq_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: H_eyyyyyyy guys! And she updates again! We're almost done with this story I think...just a few more chapters. Anyways thanks to VattaKeto, Dani, Kas3y, LeeMarieJack, Quest's Tails, Jenna, Sharllissa, NikkieSheepie, and Leandra Falconwing for reviewing! You guy are the best :)_

_Enjoy!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

"Sam!"

Dean hadn't let himself expect a response from the white-clad person in front of him, but what little hope he had left still withered away.

"I doubt I can kill you. But I can kill your friends," the woman said. "I can make Sammy watch as I torture you. And then kill them."

Dean tightened his jaw and wished that the plan was better. "Not if I kill you first."

Sam-_Lucifer_- gave Dean a pitying smile. "In this vessel? Dean, if the world were dependent upon it, you couldn't kill your brother. Not to mention, I don't think anything you have could hurt me." He casually flicked his wrist, and Dean was thrown clear across the room. He crumpled to the ground in agony. Something was...not good. More than the usual 'crap-I've-been-thrown-across-a-room' not good. A wave of nausea overtook him, and he threw up. There was some blood, and Dean winced.

"This was a bad plan," he muttered.

"I could keep you. Hide you from the angels and keep you locked away for eternity while I rule. When I defeat my brother, I'll kill you," the angel mused.

Dean glanced around the house. It was pretty empty, sparce with the exception of a neglected sofa and a ratty table. There was a door slightly ajar.

"But first, I think I'll take care of Bobby, Ellen, and Jo." He-she? (Dean didn't know much about angels and genders- did they take the gender of ther vessel? Did angels even have genders? Maybe all angels were agender. Cas had said something like that once, but Dean didn't remember. Anyways, there were more important things going on at the moment)- smiled again at Dean. "You're going to love this part."

-:-

_Dean was alive_. Sam struggled, he threw himself against the barrier in his head, hell, he even tried begging, but to no avail. Did that mean that Dean had been brought back again? Or had he never died in the first place? Sam scratched harder with the metaphorical rubber needle.

Dean was thrown across the room, and began vomiting blood. Sam shouted, tried turning around, tried everything. Twice. But he couldn't even see his brother now.

But he knew that this wasn't going to end well. How could it? An archangel versus a few hunters with guns? Easy.

When he began walking out towards the door, Sam rallied his efforts. Nothing.

He was walking closer and closer. Sam tried to close his eyes, but he was, as always, forced to watch.

-:-

"I don't think this is going to work," said Bobby. "We need something that can hurt an angel."

"Dean thinks he can somehow convince Sam to take over," Jo said, remembering what the older brother had told her in the car.

"Well, Dean's an idiot. We need angelic help. Castiel, right?" Ellen asked. Bobby nodded.

"Alright. I don't know if this will work, but...Castiel, if you can hear me, please get your ass down here pronto. Thanks, from Ellen."

"Ain't gonna work," Bobby said. "He and Dean had a fallout. Cas went off to search for God, and Dean swore he'd never talk to him again."

"That's a load of crap. He could be dying!" Jo said angrily. She turned to her mother, who was thinking.

"Well, maybe we can improvise. Jo, check the trunk for holy oil," Ellen said.

"That might not work-"

"Joanna Beth!" Ellen snapped. "Do as you're told and go check."

Jo nodded and went to check. Meanwhile, the door to the house was opening and a young woman stepped out. She was dressed immaculatey, and it did't take too many guesses to figure out who it was. "Hurry up, Jo," Ellen hissed, tensing. She steppd back involuntarily, shielding Jo.

The woman smiled. "Dean is taken care of. You three...poor Sam, that's all I have to say."

Ellen went to fire her shotgun, but Bobby pulled the muzzle away.

"Are you insane? Sam's still in there! Anyways, shotguns can't hurt angels. Trust me," Bobby hissed.

Jo ran back with a very small container. She shrugged at the two adults. "Maybe?"

The woman faltered, and made as if to turn back to the house. Then, she angrily strode on. From inside, they could hear someone scream.

Jo's face paled. "Dean," she said.

"We can't worry about that. Make a circle."

"Don't you think Sam- Lucifer, that is, could see from there?"

"In between the cars. Come on."

-:-

Sam threw himself at...well, himself, over and over. Dean was screaming, in pain...and all Sam could do was watch.

_Turn. Around_. Go back for Dean.

And he almost did, his body faltering slightly. Sam redoubled his efforts. There had to be a way. Somehow, some way...

Bobby, Ellen, and Jo were clustered together. Jo held something, and Sam couldn't see what it was. Good. He hoped it was some magic angel-killing weapon.

"Sam, Sam..." the devil crooned, inside Sam's head, "poor Sam...killing all his friends..."

Sam shouted, he tried everything. But he couldn't do even that falter again, just watch through eyes he couldn't control as he walked towards his friends.

He didn't want to watch them die.

* * *

A/N: _up next: somebody will die. You can guess who if you wish. :) If you enjoyed, leave a review pretty please? They keep me motivated for this story. Thanks for reading; have a great day!_

_-Jaq_


	8. Chapter 8

A/N:_ Ayyy, who's excited that I updated? Now you get to find out who dies..._

_Thanks to Kas3y, Sharllissa, LeeMarieJack, VattaKeto, Leandra Falconwing, Jenna, and NikkieSheepie for reviewing! You guys rock. Onto the chapter!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

Jo finished drawing the circle behind the Camry just as Lucifer arrived. He smiled through Sam's body, and Jo bit her cheek and glare. She really wanted to kill that son of a bitch.

"I'm going to kill you, starting with the girl," the devil said. Ellen stepped protectively in front of Jo, glaring herself.

"Try, and I will find a way to end you," she threatened in a low voice, dripping with anger. Jo looked over her mom's shoulder, swallowing hard. She subtly put a hand into her pocket, grapping her Zippo.

"Come and get me, then," she stated, her voice wavering only a little. Ellen immediately spun, her face full of fear and confusion.

"Jo, _no_," she whispered, her eyes wide, but Jo nodded slightly, gripping the lighter tightly and moving it so that her mother could see.

Lucifer walked over, around the Camry. Jo watched his feet, tensing. As soon as he was within ten feet, she crouched down and lit the lighter.

As the flames lept up, Lucifer's eyes widened and he gave Jo a look of pure rage. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, and grabbed her mother's arm.

Suddenly, Ellen kicked her, sending Jo flying out of the circle. She coughed, gasping to regain her wind, and looked up. Ellen tried to run out, but stopped suddenly.

She grabbed her throat, eyes watering. Jo screamed, unable to do anything except watch. She tried to run back, but she was still weak, and Bobby easily held her.

-:-

Sam's metaphorical fists were cut open, his nails split and bleeding from trying to claw his way to control. It was like trying to climb up a sheer, greased wall with only your hands, but he still fought with everything he had.

But he could do nothing.

When Jo lit up the ring of fire (at that thought, he was momentarily strengthened at what Dean would say about the Johnny Cash song, but it didn't last), he shouted with joy. Maybe they had a chance now (he didn't, but that was okay).

But when Ellen started choking- at _his_ outstretched hand- he silenced. No. Not this. _Please_. He tried again, but he couldn't regain control.

Sam watched as she struggled, as her kicks became less and less powerful.

And then he watched as she fell to the ground.

Jo was screaming, crying, calling him all manner of insults, but Sam didn't comprehend. All he could see was Ellen's lifeless body, lying on the asphalt. All because he couldn't have held out just a little longer.

He wanted to do anything, but he couldn't even blink or look away, just watch Ellen's glazed eyes stare at the ground.

-:-

Dean watched as blood dripped down from his lips. Why he was vomiting blood, he didn't know, but he was petty sure that it was very, very bad. Maybe it was related the agony in his stomach?

"C...Cas," he grunted, trying to sit up. "I know you can hear me, so get down here. Now." He breathed geavily, finally giving up on supporting himself and sinking to the floor.

A soft rustle of wings later, Castiel appeared looking very pissed off at Dean. His expression changed, however, when he saw Dean's condition.

"Can...you do anything? I won' die, but...I'd rather not visit the holy house of California again," he grunted.

Castiel frowned. "I cannot heal you. I could, however, attempt to locate the being who gave you a female body. They could, perhaps, do something."

"Do it. Now."

Frowning again, Castiel nodded. He rolled up his sleeves. "Whenever someone touches a person powerfully with magic," he explained, "they leave behind a trace. A signature, if you will. I'm warning you, this will hurt."

Dean clenched his jaw. "It's already hurting pretty bad, so get on with it!"

Castiel nodded and placed his palm on Dean's chest. Then, his hand seemed to sink through Dean, glowing slightly.

Dean screamed. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. Holding his breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the darkness of his eyelids until Cas finished.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, chest heaving. Dean coughed, and out came more blood.

Meanwhile, Castiel was looking very confused. "I...don't unerstand," he said, almost to himself. "There's no way..."

"No way...what?" Dean snapped, curling weakly into a ball.

"The presence left on your soul. It was from-"

Suddenly, a man popped into view. He was short, with brown hair and one eyebrow raised. He waved his hand and duct tape covered Cas' mouth, preventing the angel from revealing the identity of whomever it was. "It was from me! Dean, you do make a pretty girl."

Immediately recognizing the Trickster, Dean spat blood on the man's shoes. "Change it back," he groaned. "Now."

"Now, Dean. You have to understand, I did this for a reason."

"Bite me."

The Trickster smirked. "All I had to do was remove the sigils on your ribs, but I got a little carried away. But I wanted to show you how much pain you and your brother will go through. Just say yes, Dean. You don't have to do this the hard way."

Dean smiled, the blood staining his teeth. "And if we don't?"

The Trickster glared, his façade dropping on a dime. "Then what goes here stays. I could bring you both back to that morning, but I don't have to. You promise me that you'll say yes, and I will."

Half laughing, half coughing, Dean looked up humorlessly. "Don't have much of a choice now, eh?"

Suddenly, he heard screaming from outside. Jo. But it wasn't pain, not for herself.

"_Mom_! Bring her back, you son of a bitch, bring her _back_," she was screaming, sobs choking her voice. "I'll kill you with my bare hands," she yelled, and Dean could hear the desperateness and the raw emotion in her voice even from there.

He looked up at the Trickster, who was smirking. "Damn you," he growled. "Send me and Sammy back. I promise I'll say yes."

* * *

A/N 2_: heh...please don't kill me...reviews are pizza, so if you liked this please leave me one! Thanks for reading and have a great day! Only one or two chapters left in this story :)_

_-Jaq (who shall be hiding in her panic room until further notice_)


	9. Wnding chapter, or, Jaq made references

A/N: _Well, this is it...this is the end. To everyone that's been with me since the beginning, congratulations, you're awesome. To those of you who haven't, you're also awesome. To those of you that have reviewed, you're really awesome. To those of you that haven't, I'm just glad you're reading this. Basically, you're all so awesome. _

_Also, I rewatched This is Spinal Tap the other day, so there's a couple references to that thrown in. Everyone, that is an excellent rockumentary. Also funny. And I enjoy it far too much. _

_Thanks to LeeMarieJack, sammysmissingshoe, VattaKeto, Sharllissa, Leandra Falconwing, Jenna, Kas3y, LittleSilence, and NikkieSheepie for reviewing. You guys are the best. _

_Thanks for sticking with me. Everyone reading this, you rock. _

_-Jaq_

* * *

Dean woke up, sitting straight up in his bed. His heart was pounding, and he was breathing heavily. Turning, he saw a lump in under the covers of the other bed in the room. "Sam!" he said, throwing off the covers. He frowned. His voice was...different. Lower.

Dean looked down and smiled, seeing no girl parts. And he was his own height, too, and everything was back to normal...

Had it been just a dream? The whole, crazy episode just a screwed-up dream that his head had concocted?

Sam gave a muffled noise.

"What was that?"

"I had the weirdest dream ever..."

Frowning, Dean yanked the covers off of his little brother. "Explain. Now."

Sam looked up at him, smiling wanly. "I got tortured into saying yes, then I killed Ellen. You?"

Dean's gaze hardened. "Son of a bitch," he growled. "I'm not sure it was a dream."

"What do you mean?"

"I had the same dream. Only...to get us out of there, I had to promise to say yes."

Standing up, Sam stretched, his fingers just able to brush the ceiling. He looked concerned, and sent Dean a sharp look. "Promise whom?"

"That Trickster guy. You know, the one that killed me a hundred times. He seemed to think it was funny."

Sam glared a hole in the carpet. "You won't."

"Of course I won't. I lied, idiot."

There was a soft 'pop,' and the very entity they were discussing appeared. "Dean, Dean," he said, smiling. "You have to! You did give me your word, after all. And that's binding."

Dean stiffened, grabbing the gun under his pillow from instinct. "What are you?"

"I'm a Trickster, idiot."

"Whose side are you on?" Dean said, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you so interested im our saying yes, huh?"

Sam shifted a little, placing himself directly in front of his bag. Surreptitiously, he placed a hand inside.

"I'm on my own side. But I think it will be fun to see how it all plays out in the end. So many different options..."

Sam's hand found what it was looking for, and an instant later he was across the short distance, holding an angel blade to the Trickster's throat. "My brother asked what you are," he growled, "and I'm gonna second that. If you don't answer in five seconds, we're gonna find out if you can be killed with this."

The Trickster's eyes widened. "I've already told you!"

"Yeah?" Sam glared. "Then how come you didn't die when I shoved the stake through your heart? Twice? Because that doesn't seem like norma Trickster behavior to me."

"Look. Take that thing away from me, and I'll release Dean from his word. He won't have to say yes, at least not now. Okay? Kill me, and he still has to."

"So you can be killed by these. Any last words?" Sam spat out.

"Wait!" Dean called. Swallowing, he gave the Trickster- if it was a Trickster- a long, hard look. "You promise? I invoke whatever the hell you used, so you better tell the truth."

"I promise."

"Sam."

Sam looked at Dean incredulously. "We aren't letting him go. Again."

"I think we are. This way I don't have to say yes, Sam. It's good."

"Oh, get it over with!"

Dean glared. Then, he turned to Sam. "You keep that on his neck. If he tries anything, stab him."

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, confused.

"I have an idea."

"There's a fine line between stupid and clever, Dean," the Trickster called, not sounding terribly worried. "And right now? You're skipping on it."

-:-

Once out in the hallway, Dean flipped on his cell phone and dialed.

It rang once before it was picked up. "Dean," stated the voice on the other end.

"Cas, can you get here? Room three two five, Best Western, in northern Montana-"

He was barely finished speaking when Castiel appeared. The angel frowned. "Yes?"

"Hey, man, I know I yelled at you last time we talked, but there's this...guy, thing whatever, and we need you to tell us what it is. Okay?"

Castiel gave Dean a look. "Dean, I _am an angel."_

"Great."

They entered the room to find Sam still holding the Trickster at knifepoint. As soon as Castiel saw him, the angel frowned. Blinking, he tilted his head and squinted a little. "Ga-"

The Trickster coughed loudly. "Hello, Castiel."

"Dean, he's an archangel," Castiel informed him. "His name is Gabriel."

"Thanks for blowing my cover, bro," the Trickster shot back scathingly.

Dean swallowed. "If you're an archangel, why aren't we all dead?"

"Why? You want me to amend that?"

"No!" Sam said. "We're just wondering...if...you're on our side. Because if you weren't, we'd be dead, right?"

"I want to see you as vessels. Of course you aren't dead, idiot."

"Why are you here?" Castiel asked, gazing at Gabriel with a curious look.

The archangel smirked. "That's my own business. Now, Dean here has roughly ten minutes before Michael takes over. Unless you let me go free again. Hm?"

"He's pretending," said Castiel darkly. "He can fly out of here. He doesn't need to stick around."

"Yeah, and what happens when I fly away? You pretty boys and the petrified moose tell on me. I'm going incognito, Cassie." Gabriel gave Dean a significant look. "Nine minutes, amigo. You're free, I'm free, nobody's the wiser."

"Dammit!" Dean muttered. "Yeah. Okay, fine. Sam, put the blade down. Gabriel, if you interfere in our lives again at all, I will personally stab you in the face. Understand?"

Snickering, the archangel stepped back from the blade. "It's been nice, pals. See ya." With that, he disappeared.

"Well. That was special," commented Dean. Forcing a smile, he shifted a little on his feet. "Hey, who wants breakfast? I'm starving."

* * *

A/N 2: _yech, that was a bad ending chapter. Sorry, folks..._

_prompts are now open! Not that they were ever closed, but they're more open now. Because I have less to keep up with. So leave a review or pm me a prompt, s'il vous plaît..._

_If you enjoyed reading this, leave me a review? It's nice to hear from you. Thanks again, and have a great day!_

_-Jaq_


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